Bound
by The Frisky Firelily
Summary: Jayne finds himself all tied up.
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE: **Rope Bound

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Blame** GoB** and** BBJ** for this…GoB for the pics that inspired, and BBJ for egging me on :P

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><p>He was never going to live this down.<p>

He knew it, whole heartedly.

There was absolutely no way that Mal, Simon or Wash would ever let him live this down.

He shifted, hissing as the rope cut into his skin.

The night had started off so well. They'd eaten, drank, enjoyed some pool, and as the rest of the ship's inhabitants headed back to their home for the night Jayne had decided that getting some trim would be a good plan. They had spent enough time in the Black to make uncomfortable for him, and frankly he wasn't sure his right arm could take anymore abuse.

Plus, Mal had ordered him, and when you're hard up enough that your Captain orders you to get laid, you damn well do it.

So really, he wasn't to blame.

Honestly, that long without trim had a way of messing with a man's mind. Which was probably why the last few weeks in the Black had him staring down the ship's Reader like a starving man stares at fillet steak with mushroom sauce and thick cut fries.

Hungrily.

The way she pranced around in her pretty little dresses, the way she smiled and laughed, the way she spent her time in the cargo bay playing jacks with Kaylee or executing ballet moves…it drove him insane. Didn't help that the bitty little thing had a habit of smiling at him all shy-like, looking up through long dark lashes, acting all innocent and sweet. Pouty pink lips and lean limbs, plus that air of purity, like new fallen snow. Ripening fruit on the vine.

Made a man want to take a bite.

His sexual appetite, already more prodigious than that of a normal male, was heated up something fierce. The urge to defile all that goodness and innocence, to see the shy face screwed up in pleasure, the slim thighs marked with bruises and the porcelain skin covered in bite marks…it was driving him insane.

So when he stayed back at the bar, surveying the ladies on offer, perhaps a body wouldn't blame him for looking away from the buxom blondes and saucy redheads.

Perhaps it was understandable that when a sweet, slim little thing with dark hair and darker eyes sidled up to him he was more than a little interested.

Still, that wouldn't excuse him from the never ending laughter he was sure to receive when they finally got him out of this mess.

He figured he was blameless right up to the point when he followed her upstairs to the room. The candles were the only light available, setting a soft glow to everything, making it a little too easy to see another face mixed amongst all the shadows. Made it a little too easy to see pouty pink lips as if they belonged to somebody else.

Made it a little too difficult to remember his hard and fast rule.

Some tiny, niggling thought in the back of his mind, the one that usually alerted him to danger, must have been screaming. But months of staring at lips so very like those, a body so very like this one, hair as dark as this hair, suddenly boiled over.

So when she leaned up on her tiptoes, the shadows thrown across her face letting his mind fill in the blanks, he failed to listen to that little, niggling voice.

Big mistake.

He struggled to make out the room. He'd woken up a few moments ago, throat dry and eyes scratchy, and unpleasantly surprised to find himself wearing nothing but his cargos. He shifted angrily, aware that his pockets were empty. Whoever that little bitch was had known what she was doing – instead of the usual plastic ties law enforcement favoured (which he knew how to escape from easily), this was rustic farm rope. He was tied firmly to the chair, hands locked behind his back, the rough cable crisscrossing over his chest and around the chair legs.

If there was one thing Jayne hated, more than anything else, it was feeling tied down.

The memory flashed across his vision quickly. His Pa's fists, locking him down and showing him he wasn't a man yet, leaving breaks and bruises for every childish mistake made, a road map of an unhappy childhood. The scars were faded, the burns lighter, but they still stung.

He hissed as he struggled. Whatever that whore had done was something else; every time he moved and twisted the rope seemed to tighten, cutting into his hands and closing his prison down further. Worst of all he was facing away from the door, and the gag prevented him from calling for any kind of help.

Not good.

He heard the lightest creak as the door opened behind him, and he struggled, muffled swearing and fury sounding through the small room. He sniffed. Not the whore, not the acrid scent of old sweat and other men.

Something else.

He froze as he recognised that scent.

When the cool hand trailed over his shoulder, round to his collar bone, he was unsurprised to see the owner's brown eyes glinting in the dimming candlelight.

No mistaking this one for anything but her; as he began growling and snarling anew, River Tam was slowly bending at the waist until her face was right in front of Jayne's.

"Shhhh, bad dog."


	2. Chapter 2

**TITLE: **Bound

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **This was meant to be a one-shot…I don't know what happened. Sigh. Might seem a bit dark.

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><p>She removed her finger from the gag slowly, carefully, refusing to take her eyes off him. Jayne glared back at her as he struggled with his ties, hissing again when they tightened. She ran the finger over the rough fibres of the rope around his neck, avoiding the skin as she smiled. Something about that cool touch so close to his skin was making his hair stand on end, though she hadn't actually come into contact with the rough stubble under the rope.<p>

He voice was light, thoughtful.

"_Shibaru_, rope tying from earth-that-was. Your friend was talented."

"Azy, ed oouuaa eeereee!"

She laughed, the pretty sound tinkling through the darkened room.

"No, she will stay, she has such a pretty pet left here…"

She trailed off, leaning down until the warmth of her lips was penetrating the gag.

"…to play with."

Jayne's mind flashed up several different scenarios, all of which unfortunately ended with her killing him quickly, without remorse. She patted him on the head before kneeling down, settling herself comfortably between his long legs. She gently placed a hand on either knee, feather light, but that cool touch somehow sent all the blood he had in his body straight to his crotch.

Her face was innocent as she tilted her head to the side, affecting a petulant pout.

"He doesn't want to play?"

The sight of her bottom lip illuminated by candlelight did wonderfully filthy things to his libido, and he felt his own mouth open slightly of its own volition. Pink pouty lips wrapped around his john thomas, leaving coats of moisture behind while she struggled to take him all in, forming a perfect little 'o' while he fucked her hard. Pink lips pleading, crying out in pleasure and pain, begging him for more of both.

When white teeth bit down gently on that plump bottom lip he groaned.

The noise let him shake himself out of the haze and intensified his glare. The look she shot him made him all too aware that she'd Read everything, and she sat back on her haunches, twirling a curl of hair around her finger idly. She looked almost bored as she spoke.

"Seeing, always wanting, never taking."

She ran a hand up one arm shyly, and he suddenly realized she was wearing the dress. The blue one from the Maidenhead, from the night she took out a bar full of patrons, not to mention one very pissed off merc. The night he'd first taken notice of the trim, lithe body, the flashing eyes, the porcelain skin. Dark hair was curling around her pale shoulders, the fabric clinging to her lean form, candlelight illuminating the soft skin at the very top of her breasts. He mentally kicked himself, thinking on an innocent girl like that.

She caught the tail of a thought and smiled sweetly.

"Innocent?" She blinked, long dark lashes framing darker eyes. "He thinks she's innocent?"

He didn't take his eyes off as she stood slowly, running one hand carefully down the front of her dress, a pale flash against indigo fabric. Her hand ran up, fingers splaying across her sternum, over her collar bones and resting around her neck.

Right then he would have given up Vera to swap hands with River.

He wished it was because he wanted to snap her neck.

Unfortunately the thought of wrapping a large, calloused hand around that perfect slender neck while he fucked her from behind won out over the idea of choking her to death.

Just.

"Young body, untouched skin," she held his eyes as that same hand ran down, skimming under one covered breast.

Something in her face seemed to darken momentarily. "Daddy's perfect little doll, white albatross, pure as the driven snow."

He struggled not to think about the idea of fucking Mal's perfect little Reader right in the Captain's chair, pounding into her until she screamed out his name while the Captain slept soundly. He tried not to think that the idea of defiling Mal's porcelain princess would make every sigh, every scream, every whisper all the sweeter. He tried not to relish the idea of making the Captain's ward beg and plead and whimper, leaving marks of ownership over the pale body.

He tried.

He failed.

Jayne couldn't tear his eyes away. Her other hand snuck behind her back, and the silence in the room was broken by the slow, steady sound of a zip being pulled down. The straps were lowered, revealing two perfect, smooth shoulders, and he couldn't move as the blue curtain that had previously been obstructing his view melted to the floor, leaving the world's deadliest china doll bare.

Perfect, flawless.

Her chocolate curls covered either breast, and he struggled for a second to move it before remembering his predicament. She laughed, her hand starting up its slow trace down the valley of her breasts, her taut stomach, fingers skimming the very top her white cotton panties. She smiled, taking a step forward.

"Look closer."

Something in her voice had changed, the playful, childish lilt now dissipated, and Jayne knew an order when he heard one. He ran his eyes over her skin, letting them switch from horny male to tracker in order to pick up whatever she was requesting. Breasts, small and perfect, narrow waist flaring out to slender hips, lean legs strong with muscle and discipline and…

The candlelight flickered.

There they were. A railroad of track marks running up the crook of either elbow. Two pock marks over her sternum from where tubes had been inserted. Parallel claw marks along her ribs. A single scar running parallel to her right hipbone, evidence of medical tampering. Three more pock marks down her thigh, one along the inside of the other leg.

A road map of an unhappy childhood.

Tarnished innocence, purity of the driven snow obliterated by reminders of past behaviour. He was witnessing something new, ground breaking, being let in on a very private secret.

And for some reason all he could think was how much he wanted to trace his tongue along her hipbones just to see what they tasted like.

A low snarl sounded through the room and Jayne froze when he realized it came from her.

She leant down once more, and her breathe against his cheek was like oxygen to a fire, heating his body and making him shiver.

"Does he wish he could defile this body?"


	3. Chapter 3

**TITLE: **Bound

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Starting to get a little on the smutty side folks...

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><p>Jayne held himself completely still, unwilling to move as she slowly, carefully perched on his lap, one slim thigh resting either side of his hips. As she lowered herself his mouth watered, her dusky nipples passing so close to his face, her neck begging to be tasted. He groaned as he felt her heat through the cotton panties, felt her settle over his cargo covered crotch, the feel of friction against his hardened cock almost unbearable. She slid her hands slowly up his arms, the cool skin leaving icy trails in its wake, and as she travelled over the rope across his chest he shivered.<p>

"Does he wish he could leave marks to show where he has been?"

She scratched her nails lightly across his neck, up his cheek and into his hair. His eyes closed involuntarily at her touches, skin breaking out in goose bumps, his blood humming at the sight, the smell, the sound of her. Suddenly the sweet caress turned violent, her hands grabbing his hair and pulling his head back, exposing his throat as she rose to hiss in his ear.

"Does he think there is innocence to claim?"

She gripped his chin, forcing his eyes onto hers as she scratched her other hand down his chest, over his crotch. He strained against his gag as she slipped one small hand inside his cargos, deftly flicking open the buttons and wrapping slim fingers around his cock. The cool hand began to move slowly, carefully, torturously.

She hissed into his ear as he groaned.

"Always thinking about the girl. Thinking about lips and skin and teeth and tongues and marks and bruises and sighs and screams." He bucked against her hand as he lips hissed out her words, violent and painfully seductive. "Thinking about endless opportunities for release to be found. The crate, the galley table, the kitchen, the shower stall. To lick and touch and bite and thrust. So flexible, bet she goes like a racehorse, bet she fucks like a wildcat."

He'd never heard her cuss before, the word coming out vicious and dirty, heading straight to his crotch.

She looked into his eyes and he was frozen by the stillness, the anger. "Not only the ape man; others too. Others always looking, always wanting, always thinking of how to obtain."

He felt a lump of jealousy rise in his throat as she kept up that slow, torturous pumping, the movement throwing candlelight across her breasts above him. He didn't like the idea of other men thinking on her like that, made him feel mighty unsettled.

"Enter the bar, the meeting, the hide out. There they are." She closed her eyes as if she didn't want to see what she was saying, her hand never faltering in its delicious, exquisite torment.

"Can always tell, can always see the difference. They always know. Untouched, untasted, untested. So fresh, ready for the plucking, desperate for a taste of forbidden fruit. Never ending quest for conquest. Is it a walk? A talk? A smile or way of wearing her hair? They can tell!"

Her eyes flew open and he snarled as she tightened her grip.

"So easy to tell?"

She stopped her movement, bringing up her free hand and gently moving aside the gag.

"Crazy, what the fu-"

The backhand was hard enough to send him rocking to the side, mouth filling with blood. He glared and spat it to the floor, feeling it trickle down his chin, wondering why he shouldn't spit it straight at her, paint that porcelain skin red. He was ready to bolt but knew that the ever tightening rope and 90lb naked girl straddling him would make that difficult, especially with that small hand still wrapped around his cock.

She raised an impatient brow, her voice hardening.

"So easy to tell?"

He gritted his teeth and went for honesty. "Yeah."

She resumed the slow pumping, using one thumb to swirl precum over the head of his cock, his low moan echoing through the room as she did so. "How?"

How to explain the intoxicating elixir of the untouched, the addictive sight of something so rare, so beautiful, so dangerous and stunning. Unintentionally seductive with every sweet movement, every shy smile, every tinkling laugh.

He shook his head, trying to concentrate.

"Ain't…ain't somethin' ta explain. Ya jus'…urgh…_cao_…fuck ya can jus'-"

"Just what?"

He growled louder now. "Ya jus' can! Ain't a smell, a walk, nuthin' like that! It's everythin'. Everythin' 'bout ya reeks o' Core and purity, everythin' 'bout ya sets off that thing that says 'don't touch, don't look, don't taste'. Bad men like me pick up on it an'...everythin' 'bout ya drives us crazy!"

She paused. "Bad to drive people crazy."

He didn't speak; biting into his lip hard enough to draw blood as she idly pumped him, looking off into the distance for a moment. She glanced back down, running her free hand along his face until her fingers caressed his neck.

"Optimal specimen. Above average height, well maintained physique." She ran her hand down his chest, skimming over the hardened muscle of his rope covered stomach, up across the tensed bicep of his arm. He tried to control the shiver her actions elicited, fighting the urge to lean up into her touch. She leaned down, the movement rubbing her nipples across his chest, her nose skimming across his collar bone, inhaling deeply.

"No indication of illness or disease, medical records show up to date vaccines."

Jayne suddenly had the very uncomfortable realization that he was being carefully evaluated. Brown eyes snapped up to his, studying him carefully. She glanced down at her other hand, inspecting its contents carefully.

"Above average length, girth. Not ideal for initial penetration, likely to increase chances of pain."

His brow furrowed. Penetra-

"Still, attraction already established via excessive thoughts, ongoing sexual fantasies brought about by her innocence. And he is available now. Optimal selection for immediate closure."

She sighed. "She is tired of being watched like prey."

Her eyes turned hard and resolute.

"Easily remedied."


	4. Chapter 4

**TITLE: **Bound

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **And now, there is smut. Like…kinda fucked up smut. I dunno, I was in a mood.

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><p>"Easily remedied."<p>

For a brief second Jayne wondered exactly how much trouble he was likely to be in if found with an 18 year old Reader straddling his lap while tied to a chair. Mal had been ready to throw him out of the airlock for betraying the Tams, which he ranked about a 7.5, and he put Miranda at an 11. He guessed that on a level of one to ten the trouble would be roughly an 8.

Maybe a 9.

One foot snapped out, breaking the chair and sending him toppling backwards, his hands still locked behind his back, feet tied to the now unattached chair legs. The impact made him grunt in pain, but he didn't have time to roll himself over. She settled over him like a feather, light and delicate, but her hands gave no quarter. She deftly opened his trousers, the other hand tearing at the cotton panties, white barrier ripped from her body quickly.

Ok, make that an 11.

Jayne's eyes widened as he realized what she was going to do, and he opened his mouth to argue when she suddenly looked up. Those angry eyes were filled with something else as well; fear. _Not only the ape man; others always looking, always wanting, always thinking of how to obtain. _Suddenly the protest died in his throat, and before he could gain it back she had impaled herself on his length.

His head flung back, hitting the cold floor hard, and his choked growl melded with her liquid cry. For a few seconds the world froze completely, his mind unable to form even the most basic of thoughts. Luckily it didn't last too long.

_Ma de. Cao. Fuck. Gorram…_

To his dying day he would wonder where he had found the self-control not to blow his load like a ruttin' teenager.

She didn't move, and given that he was currently seated inside the tightest, slickest, hottest bit of trim he'd ever experienced he didn't blame her. She seemed frozen, eyes wide and mouth forming that perfect little 'o' he'd been thinking about for so long.

The sight didn't disappoint.

He held his breathe, desperately fighting the urge to push up into her hard, wanting to feel that friction against him. He'd felt the barrier split, felt the push into somewhere that had never even been touched, let alone penetrated. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as inner muscles fluttered minutely around him, her body struggling to cope with the intrusion. He wanted to be aware of his arms cramping painfully underneath him, the dryness of his throat and eyes from the goodnight kiss he'd previously received, the burn of the rope on his wrists, chest and neck.

He couldn't feel anything but her.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she drew in a shuddering breath. Her eyes floated slowly down, and he saw a tear of pain slip down one cheek. One of his wrists sang out a cramp and he twitched unconsciously to relieve it, bucking up, the movement sending a gasp from her throat.

Jayne froze, aware that he was on very dangerous ground, and she narrowed her eyes in his direction.

He wanted his hands free, wanted to roll her over and trap those thin little wrists above her head, wanted to fuck her hard enough that those small but perfect breasts bounced in time with his thrusts. He wanted her on her knees, calloused hand tangled in her chocolate hair as she sucked him down her throat. He wanted to taste her core, see just how calm she was when he brought her over the edge. He wanted his name screamed from those pouty lips, wanted his marks all over her body.

The slap rang out, her nails leaving parallel marks across his left cheek.

"Stop!"

She paused, and since the movement of slapping him had made her clench around his cock like a gorram vice he thought he understood why.

She shook her head in disbelief. "Done! No more problem! No forbidden fruit to be tasted, no lamb amongst wolves, no innocence left. These thoughts are an aberration, a fault in design!"

His brow furrowed and she groaned in irritation.

"Why is he still thinking like that? Copulation is complete! Nothing more to think about her! Just like any other female now!"

There was the barest note of insecurity in her voice that made his ears perk up. Just like any other female; just like any other woman he'd been inside. She was right, she was just like any other female in that she was feeling scared and vulnerable after…alright, _during, _her first time.

His hands were tired, he was completely restricted, but for the first time since he'd been knocked out Jayne felt in control of a situation. He grit his teeth against the pain in his arms and bent his elbows, pushing himself into a half upright position in order to look up at her. He grinned, slow and lazy, showing his teeth as he raised a brow.

"Girly, fer a genius you sure got a lot ta learn 'bout sexin."

He let his tongue run over his teeth, smearing the blood left from the backhand she'd dealt him already. He kept his thoughts solely on her, on her body, the tightness of her, and his mind was carefully avoiding the slight loosening he'd felt on his left wrist. Barely noticeable, but there was an opening, and he smiled.

He let his eyes trail over her body, down to where they connected, and if possible he could have sworn he got harder. He kept his eyes locked on hers, moving himself ever so slightly, watching as her head tilted back and her eyes closed. He grinned.

"Cuz iffen ya think we're finished…"

Another twitch pushed a tiny, choked gasp from her throat, moving her forward enough that he could growl deep and low into her ear.

"You got another thing comin'."


	5. Chapter 5

**TITLE: **Bound

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **And…more smut. Now…don't blame me for the dirty talk…it's Jayne's fault, not mine. Seriously, NSFW. Just...filthy.

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><p>He figured he might as well just ask outright, maybe she'd surprise him.<p>

He kept his grin easy, lazy. "Girly, ya wanna untie these ropes? I could show ya a good time."

She looked hesitant, and he could tell she was trying to Read him. She shook her head.

"Sen…sensation already too…no."

She didn't trust him, he figured that much. Strange to think he was buried inside her and she still didn't trust him, but she also didn't seem to be in a rush to leave. He'd noted the curious, nervous glint in her eye when he told her they weren't finished. Sitting so still in the candlelight she looked like she was made of china, only the fluttering, laboured breathing indicating that she was alive. The feel of her around him was distracting but from the look in her eyes it was having a serious effect on her.

He nodded calmly at her refusal to untie him, all too aware that despite her size and nakedness she could still end him in a heartbeat if she was so inclined.

Besides, he kinda liked it here.

She must have caught wind of the last thought, because her eyes narrowed, and she moved as if to leave. Unfortunately for her she hadn't quite predicted the reaction she would have to the movement, and the friction made them both groan. He refused to think about what his hands were doing, carefully testing the rope as she surveyed him through hooded eyes. Her lips parted as she tried to speak.

"She…c-c-copulatio-"

He chuckled darkly. "Go on girly, teach me 'bout cop-u-latin'."

He pushed up into her again, harder this time, and she cried out. Either hand was balanced on his shoulders now, her nails digging in slightly as she held on. Her head tipped forward, curls brushing his bound chest, and he chuckled again as she struggled to breath normally while her body kept trying to adjust.

He tilted forward until he was aligned with her ear, his stubble roughly skimming her cheek. "Come on genius; learn me all 'bout it."

Moving slowly was killing him but he'd do it til he died if it meant hearing those tiny kitten mewls that emerged from her throat. Her breathing was still laboured, she was fighting a warring battle between pain and pleasure, and right now pleasure was just winning out. When he pulled back to look at her face she stuttered.

"C-can't think…"

He couldn't help the satisfied chuckle as he pushed up again. "Yeah, why's that?"

"B-b-…"

He growled as he pushed up harder. "Because I'm so ruttin' deep inside ya can prob'ly taste it?"

When he spoke she twitched involuntarily, and his eyes narrowed in interest. So, the Reader, little miss sees everything…liked a bit of dirty talk? He grinned wolfishly; the sweet little Core girl who liked a bit of filth whispered in her ear in a Rim accent.

"_Cao_, ya like that girly?"

Choked gasp.

Pushing up, harder again.

"Like gettin' fucked by a good ol' Rim boy?"

Hiss of pleasure and pain.

"Like bein' de-filed?"

Liquid cry like music to his ears.

"Bet Cap'n Daddy..._ta ma de_…wouldn't be none too happy…"

Her nails digging in tighter and her skin flushing as he thrust up into her. Her eyes kept screwing shut and he wanted her to keep them open.

"Watch, girly. Watch who's makin' ya feel like this."

She obeyed.

He grinned as he moved, loving the surprise and pleasure and fear and awe in her eyes as he pushed into her, wishing his hands were free from their bindings to play her like an instrument. His left wrist twitched, and another knot loosened. The realization that if he ever did get loose he didn't necessarily want to leave had long passed, and the way she had started pleading for him not to stop was cementing that fact.

Medications, training, behavioural modifications, Reading; girl seemed to be enjoying an opportunity to not have to think. To not be able to think.

He ran his teeth along her collar bone, ignoring the agony in his still bound arms, growling into her neck. Her breathing hitched and silken skin met his lips, his teeth scraping into the soft flesh of her throat. She tasted like wild strawberries, sweet and tart, skin like cool cashmere, hardened nipples against his chest. The sensation made his breath hitch as he spoke, his voice rasping out like gravel.

"What would they…say? Seein' their girl…_ma de_…ridin' a filthy merc?"

She was struggling not to scream as he spoke, he could see it written on her features, the idea of breaking free, losing control, losing the bonds by doing the nasty with someone like him. Part of him wanted to be insulted but couldn't, not with his _diao_ buried inside the untouchable Core girl, Mal's protected princess, the forbidden fruit of Serenity. Not when after years of paying for women nowhere near this stunning had passed, not when she was panting and mewling and writhing like a succubus.

A cry burst from her throat, his movements speeding up as he snarled into her ear.

"Perfect gorram girl being…_ai ya_…"

If he'd known this was on offer he wouldn't have bothered engaging the whore.

_Go se._

The second backhand hurt as much as the first, blood welling up in his mouth once more. Before he could yell she'd brought one hand over his throat, nails just barely pricking the skin, a clear threat. She stared at him, keeping him frozen with her eyes as she cocked a brow. Her eyes were still hooded from pleasure but she must have picked up on his last, admittedly stupid thought, because now there was only anger. Slowly, carefully, she moved up, and the back down.

He hissed as the restrained movement sent shockwaves through his entire body.

"No use for a whore if it is on offer for free."

He couldn't breathe. The nails at his throat told him not to move, the feel of her body told him to fuck her senseless, and her eyes were telling him that obeying the nails might be worth his while. She leaned forward very slowly, bringing her lips to his ear.

"Like getting ridden by a Core girl?"


	6. Chapter 6

**TITLE: **Bound

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Man these two just keep wanting to torture each other…funnily enough I'm kinda willing to let them. For **Night Blooming Lotus, **happy birthday gorgeous girl!

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><p>As she moved upwards she clenched around him, making his throat close over. Cheeky bitch, switching this around, knowing he couldn't move for fear of those nails opening his jugular. The candlelight sent shadows across her slim frame, and he couldn't help but think that the look in her eyes was as close to the devil as he'd ever come.<p>

Her hiss of pleasure sizzled through his system. "Like being buried inside Mal's perfect porcelain princess?"

Mal would kill him. Simon would kill him. Heck, most of the crew would kill him, and those who wouldn't were likely to leave him mutilated at least. He'd be lucky if it was the airlock, but reality said it would take longer than that. Simon must have a million interesting ways to mutilate someone, though Jayne reckoned maybe the littlest Tam knew a thing or two about torturing a man to death. The wildcat writhed on top of him, and he ran his tongue across his teeth, tasting blood.

What a way to go.

And damned if the feeling of her wasn't worth it. No hands, no way to touch or feel her, no way to explore her body, and he was still harder than he'd ever been in his life.

She scratched nails down his chest as she slammed down on him harder, the impact making them both cry out. She was leaving little scratches all across him, his mouth still tasted of fresh blood from when she'd cracked him across the jaw earlier, and now she was riding him hard enough to make his eyes pop.

Mal's little Reader liked it dirty and rough.

Who woulda guessed it?

Her breathing was getting ragged and her words were ringing through his skull. She leant back, giving him the full visual of her lean body, perfect breasts, tousled hair shining in the candlelight.

"Can't buy girls like her, can't afford them."

It burned.

It was true, but it still burned.

"Like fucking Simon's kid sister?"

He did.

Sweet _cao_ he did.

She locked eyes with him, tongue running over pink lips as she did. Her speed was picking up and Jayne could almost see the edge.

"Like taking her, making the first mark on new fallen snow?"

Not enough, he couldn't mark her enough, not like this. He could barely breathe, desperate to move, dying to turn this around and take back control. The hand at his throat, the wildcat riding him straight to hell, it held him in place. Her voice was darkly hypnotic and her eyes had him pinned in place.

"Bet he won't forget this; one night only." She swivelled her hips and he cursed viciously. "Bet next time he's with his whore, his hand, he'll remember."

He was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming, feeling her sear her brand along his cock, prick it into his shoulder and neck with her nails, feeling the truth in her words.

"Every fuck, every lick, every bite, every moan," she slowed right down, eliciting a growl from his throat as she leaned in so her lips were almost touching his. "He will compare, he will find them wanting. He will always remember."

He stared at her lips, a man dying of thirst shown water, inching forward only to find her moving back, always out of reach. He felt his bindings loosen further as her voice warmed to a dark purr.

"Because deep down he knows," she bit at his neck, her pace picking up further, his arms ready to break and his cock about to burst.

"He will never get to fuck this Core girl again."

Fuck, _cao_.

She was right. He wasn't going to get this opportunity again; no way they'd let him near her, no way they could conceal something like this on ship, no way he'd be allowed to live if he got caught. This was it, his one chance to lay his claim and change her world as much as she'd changed his. Something held him back, made him hesitate as he got so close to the edge he could almost taste it, and she smiled darkly.

"Isn't that right," so close he could feel her breath on his lips.

"Enjoy it now, Jayne Cobb."

That did it.

He pulled back, smirking.

"Yer right."

She had a second to see the thoughts he'd been keeping hidden before all hell broke loose.

His roar sounded through the room as he finally got his arms free, bringing the rope over his head and wrapping it around her waist in one fluid motion. He stood quickly, spinning her so her arms were tied behind her back, wary of flying fists and kicking legs. She was fast and gorram flexible but he was ready, lifting her into the air to remove any leverage and slamming her back into the wall. He moved between her legs quickly so she couldn't do any damage, and he watched her face as he thrust up into her again.

That perfect, liquid cry sang through the room, a tear streaming down her face as she came crashing over the edge. He held her tightly, her bound arms forcing her chest out from the wall, and he couldn't help running his tongue along his teeth at the sight. He scraped his teeth across the soft flesh, drawing in one dusky nipple and then another, her cries of pleasure indicating how she fell apart.

He growled as he thrust into her, glancing over to the bed and quickly making his decision. He turned them, dropping her onto the bed and flipping her over before she came out of her reverie. He drew her onto her knees, taking a moment to revel in her perfect ass before pushing inside her once more.

Her cry of surprise was partly muffled by the bed spread, her bound arms meaning her head was pressed into the covers, and he paused for a second, unsure if he'd hurt her. A snarl sounded and she pushed back, making him grunt as she met his thrusts hard. He tangled one hand in her hair, drawing her up and back until she was pressed against his chest, and he kept thrusting as he moved his hand around her throat, feeling her breasts brush his forearm, while the other travelled down, finding the tiny nub that made her cries turn to screams.

She was trying to form incoherent sentences, and he smirked. "Come on girly, say it."

She hissed in irritation and then frustration as his thrusts slowed, his fingers rubbing her clit while his stubble scratched at her throat. She struggled to push down, wanting him to speed up, but he kept things shallow and light, torturously slow as she whined and writhed.

"Ya know what I wanna hear."

He stroked her clit again and finally he heard it, plaintive and filled with desperation.

"P…please…"

"Please what?"

Choked gasp. "Please…Jayne…please, harder."

He chuckled as he scraped teeth along her skin, holding her neck a little tighter for just a second. "Well since ya begged all pretty-like."

He let go, allowing her torso to drop back to the bed as he began pounding into her, keeping one hand over her shoulder and the other gripping her hip tight enough to bruise. Her previously incoherent sentences were now a diatribe as he picked up the pace, begging and pleading and imploring.

"P-pleaseJ-jayne_M-made_yespleasedon'tstopyesharderplease_cao_…"

He felt her inner muscles start to flutter and reached around quickly to rub her clit, grinning as she crashed over the edge with a scream, his name echoing through the room.

He wasn't done, he couldn't be done just yet, not when there was more of her to touch, to taste, to mark, and he flipped her quickly, settling between her legs before she could recover. As he tasted her he felt rather than heard her gasp, her thighs tightening dangerously around his ears, and he glanced momentarily at the bruise he'd left on her hip.

As he slipped a finger inside her he felt the aftershocks of her last climax begin to blend with the start of this one, and as her juices flooded his mouth he couldn't shake the thought of wild strawberries, picked in secret, never shared. Prized.

He moved up, settling between her thighs again, wrapping an arm around her waist to take the pressure off her bound wrists beneath her. The movement sent her head into the crook of his neck, and he inhaled deeply the smell of sweat and sex in her hair. His free hand grabbed the headboard as he pushed inside her, relishing the way her legs snapped around his hips unconsciously.

As he began thrusting into her in earnest, feeling his own climax begin to approach, she deftly slipped one leg from behind him until it was resting on his shoulder. His eyes nearly crossed with the sensation, damn girl sure was a fast learner, and he turned his head to nip at her ankle. Her other leg was strong, anchored around his waist, and he picked up his pace, watching her head loll back as a cry began to build in her throat. Her breasts were bouncing in time with his harsh thrusting, and he felt himself begin to crest at the sight. The sound of the headboard slamming into the wall mingled with the sound of her climax, the entire bedframe protesting its rough treatment.

"_Ta ma de_."

His voice sounded hoarse as he felt the edge approach, felt the girl being to tumble over with him, and his hand clenched as he came, snapping the headboard into splinters as she screamed his name into the night. He slumped over, the only sound in the room their irregular breathing as they struggled to come back to themselves. He wasn't thinking, his lips skimming the soft flesh of her throat, and she sighed softly into his ear.

He brought his head up, his eyes locking with hers, and for a second neither of them moved.

He felt her muscles bunch just as she felt his shoulders tense, and they burst apart, him rolling backwards and her diving across the bed. She sat up immediately, ready to kip to her feet when her eyes widened.

He grinned, arm steady as he held Jamie aimed straight between her eyes.

"Come on Crazy, ya know I never hit the cathouse without her."


	7. Chapter 7

**TITLE: **Bound

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

><p>She glared as he kept his weapon pointed at her, and he had a moment to reflect on the situation. River Tam, resident Reader, Alliance-forged weapon, and ruttin' genius to boot, was currently at his mercy. Her hair was falling tangled and tousled around her face, her breathing still irregular after their frantic, violent sex, her pale skin flushed in the candlelight.<p>

Oh, and sexed six ways to Sunday.

He grinned to himself at the rope work; he had to admit, it was good for on the fly. The wrists were firmly anchored behind her back and from the glare she shot him and the way she twisted there was little chance of her getting out anytime soon. The length of cable still anchored around her stomach had shifted during their time here, now pushing up her flushed breasts and tortured nipples. His handprints were bruised into her hip, over her shoulder, around her ribs. A lovebite on her neck, another on her left breast.

Marked.

It sure was a pretty sight.

He hadn't gotten off lightly himself. He twitched his back, his arms sore and tired, the scratches on his chest stinging as sweat dripped into them, salty and sharp. He would have a black eye and cheekbone from the backhands she'd given him. He glanced around the room. Large bed, small desk in the corner that he knew from experience was filled with various devices. He scowled, wondering if that's where the whore had hidden the rope earlier. If the Reader picked up on his thought she was keeping her mouth shut, eyeing Jamie warily as the weapon's sight never left her forehead.

He spat, blood and the taste of her still coating his mouth as he nodded in her direction. "I don't trust you girl."

"She holds him in low regard also."

He nodded, staring her down as he buttoned his cargos one handed. "And if I take this pretty lady offa you-"

"She will have you paralysed in 1.78 seconds."

He chuckled. "Gotta 'ppreciate yer honesty."

She glared, and the thought occurred to Jayne that she looked mighty fine when she was all angry and flushed, especially with that mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction weighing her down. He liked her like that, liked the way her eyes gleamed with new discovery, liked the way her voice sounded hoarse from all the screaming. She had to be sore, wasn't like anyone had ever accused him of being gentle, he was a big guy, but if her body ached she refused to show it. And he had to admit; that was more than a little impressive given what he'd just put her through. His eyebrow twitched as he wondered whether or not she'd ever let him see her like this again, but the flashing eyes gave him his answer.

He smirked. "Don't act like ya didn't enjoy yerself Crazy."

She rolled her eyes. "He wishes."

He scoffed in disbelief. "Screamin' my name like that don't help yer case girl, an' I'm thinkin' iffen I asked real nice you'd beg fer round two."

She ran her tongue over her lips, and he couldn't help follow it with his eyes.

"She will not be the one begging."

Fuck.

She was right. It was already setting in, the twitch of his fingers longing to feel that silken skin, wanting to elicit those kitten mewls, wanting to leave those marks so any man who looked at her wouldn't see the untouched, the innocent, the pure.

They'd see his property.

She held his gaze for a moment before shifting until she was kneeling in the centre of the bed. He watched her carefully, all too aware of the predator in his midst, and she carefully rose, pushing her chest out.

She seemed to sway slightly as she rose, the movement sending candlelight and shadow across her naked torso, hitting the shinier skin where scars had made their homes, the supple flesh of her breasts and taut stomach. He was too fascinated by the way his fingers had marked their territory just below her breast to realize what she was doing, and so the loud pop that sounded as she dislocated her shoulder made him almost drop Jamie.

She brought her arms down over her head so they were resting in front of her, wrists still bound by that rustic rope. He got the message; she could have gotten out if she'd wanted to. He smirked smugly.

"Funny, ain't it? Pretty lil Core thing like you wantin' a big ol' Rim boy ta show ya a good time."

She lifted a brow, looking oddly regal despite her nudity.

"Funny, isn't it, that he takes her innocence, sexes her six ways from Sunday, leaves his marks all over her skin, and he still fantasises about the taste of her lips."

He scowled. "Watch yer mouth girl, don't go sayin' things like that."

She glared. "Is it all out of his system now? Will he cease thinking of her so…much?"

It was true. He hated that it was true. Even now as she spoke, as the candlelight danced, her lips were calling out to him like a siren. To taste her, to possess her. He'd just had the best sex of his life and all he could think about was claiming her again, this time tasting that perfect, pink lips. She looked exhausted, like all she wanted was to curl up and fall asleep, to recover from a first time unlike what she could have ever expected, and the sight was enough to make his john thomas stir.

She looked frustrated. "Wants her, still." She narrowed her eyes. "Every day off ship is to be inundated with the lecherous thoughts of others, and now he continues to make her home filled with the same. Wanting her, thinking of her, pushing those thoughts into her mind again and again. Imagining scenarios, wanting to claim her. All over the ship!"

He gulped as her voice, hoarse and raspy, rose to a yell.

"On the galley table."

_Bending her over and seeing her scrape her nails into the wood._

"On the bridge."

_Her in his lap, both facing the stars as her head rolled back, his fingers playing her like an instrument while he thrust into her._

"In the cargo bay."

_Feeling her skin on his while she rode him, straddling his weight bench and screaming his name into the ship._

"In your bunk."

_Tasting her long into the night and testing just how sound proof his bunk was."_

"In the med bay!"

_Messing up the whole room as they fucked like animals, sending the organised contents into chaos, leaving their mark all over the bay._

"In the spare shutt-"

"Enough! What's yer point girl? That yer worth a rut?" He scoffed. "Congrats."

He'd had enough. Striding forward, keeping Jamie trained between her eyes, he bent down til his face was inches away from hers.

"Ain't nuthin' ta write home about girl." He chuckled, reaching out a hand to run lightly over her arm. "Hell, I'll rut anythin' with tits an' legs, don't think yer special."

He sneered as he spoke, wrapping his hand around her arm and shoving back roughly. Her shoulder popped back into place with a grunt, and he turned, striding for the door.

"Don't go tellin' no-" He stopped, frozen in place as a light bulb when on in his head. He turned back around, seeing her eyes wide and frightened as she picked up on his thoughts, her face flushing redder as she looked down nervously. He smirked as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with a cocky grin.

"Spare shuttle?" He stepped closer to the bed and all the cockiness she'd shown before dissipated. He rested one knee on the edge of the covers, leaning down, Jamie hanging to his side as he moved his fingers up her spine. She was blushing, a fact he found a little too delicious given what they'd been doing the last few hours, and he knew he was smirking as he brushed her hair over one shoulder. He leaned down to her neck, inhaling deeply as his fingers kept moving up and down her spine, enjoying the way she shivered against him.

"Girl…I ain't thought 'bout ya in the spare shuttle."


	8. Chapter 8

**TITLE: **Bound

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Last chapter! Thank you so much for supporting this story, it's been a (filthy) blast to write, waaay too much fun!

* * *

><p>The room was in disarray, the bed partially destroyed, a dent in the wall from where he'd slammed her into it, the chair in broken pieces on the floor. He wasn't looking at any of it; he was staring at the blushing girl in the centre of the bedspread.<p>

He grinned wolfishly as he leant over her.

"So…been thinkin' 'bout me in the shuttle have ya?"

She didn't answer, still looking down shyly, and he couldn't help smirking. He nuzzled into her neck, warm, calloused hands running over her sweat cooled skin.

She was embarrassed, he could tell, and for a second it crossed his mind that having your crush figure you out while you were naked and aching from your first time might not be the best thing in the world for a young girl. A good guy would back off, scratch his head uncomfortably and apologise, excuse himself and leave her to regroup.

He smirked.

He loved being a bad guy.

She yelped when he picked her up, sitting heavily on the bed with her in his lap, her back pressed to his chest. Her bound wrists were held tightly in his hands, the other gripping her shoulder and collarbone. He took a moment to admire her back; perfect narrow waist flaring out like a violin, spine twisting under flawless skin.

Buck nekkid and bound.

Perfect.

He leaned down, scratching stubble over her neck as he spoke.

"Seems I ain't t'only one that's been thinkin' a lil in'ppropriately."

She kept her head down but her voice was hard.

"He is lowbrow, uncouth, aggressive."

He grinned, his voice a low rumble.

"Damn straight girly."

Her voice shook slightly as he growled into her ear.

"He likes to kill."

"Only when there's cash involved."

"He tried to sell her."

Dangerous ground.

He nodded, not saying a word as she continued.

"He betrayed her brother."

He stayed silent, wondering if her eyes were open.

"Has wanted her dead and buried multiple times."

He shifted slightly and her breathing hitched when cargo met her over sensitive core. He smirked.

"An' yet here ya are, still wantin' me."

He pulled her head back slightly, enjoying the way her lips fell open as he shifted again. When his fingers trailed over the tightened flesh of her nipple she whimpered, and he nearly jumped when she rubbed against his cheek. She arched back, her ass pressing into his crotch, breasts visible as her body bowed. She turned, running open lips over his neck, jaw, towards his mouth. Her voice was husky and dark as she spoke into his skin.

"Yes, she wants you."

No one had ever accused Jayne Cobb of having an overabundance of brains.

"But she doesn't trust you."

In hindsight he probably should have expected the move but it still took him by surprise. Her head rocked forward and kipped up, slamming into his nose and snapping his head backwards. She flung out an elbow across his already bruised cheekbone, and he heard something break. Before he could recover she rose quickly, whipping around one foot to slam into the side of his head, the crack reverberating through the room.

As the darkness took over he reckoned it was mighty unfair that he'd been knocked out twice now in the same room.

* * *

><p>She wouldn't speak to him. It had been a week since he'd woken up (again) and dragged his tired, beaten ass back to the ship. He'd gotten an ear chewed off by Mal while River had sat silently in the pilot's chair, a tiny smirk crossing her face. Jayne hadn't said a word, gritting his teeth to keep from wiping the smile off her smug little face, annoyed at how he felt like the naughty teenager getting in trouble with Pa when it wasn't his fault at all.<p>

She quirked a brow.

Ok, maybe a little.

Mal obviously had no idea she'd spent the evening being pounded by a Rim-born mercenary with a gun fetish, running an affectionate hand over her hair but otherwise not including her in the conversation. Jayne had glared at her so darkly his Captain had asked him what the girl could possibly have done.

Another imperious eyebrow arch from her, a mumbled nothing from him.

It gave him some satisfaction that she was walking a little slower, sitting down a little more carefully. Nice to know she was aching too, though she'd hidden it well. He kept studying her, every time she moved and shifted he watched carefully for a bruise to reveal itself. She must have stolen something off Inara to cover the mark on her neck, and her long sleeves were hiding whatever marks he'd left on her arms.

Simon had caught sight of his face when he'd dragged himself in; her roundhouse had shattered his cheekbone, and he was fairly sure a tooth was loose after her second backhand. That wasn't even addressing the multiple scratches she'd left across his chest, and the black eye her first backhand had created. The slap had left three parallel nail marks on his face, and every time he saw them he couldn't help but think of how he'd longed to mark her. He'd told them about the goodnight kiss, claiming a bouncer roughed him up afterwards, and was surprisingly unfazed by the laughter of his male crew mates.

Seemed the joke was on him.

She was driving him mad. He couldn't complete the simplest action without thinking of her. The way her eyes screwed shut when she came, or her mouth looked when she glared. The way she tasted, smelled, felt and sounded. Everything.

He'd been hard as a rock ever since that night. The desire should be gone, but it hadn't even lessened. It should have; he knew for a fact she was anything but innocent now, knew that barrier had been breached, knew she was just like any other woman.

Expect, she wasn't.

Even after he'd had her all night, even after she'd slowly tortured him, even after they'd both crashed over the same ledge and destroyed a room in the process she was still…forbidden. It wasn't just the innocence, the shy smile, the fact that Mal would kill him if he knew what his merc had been doing to her.

Well…if he was really, really lucky it would be death.

She was still above him. It made him want to laugh, all things considered, but she was still the perfect, porcelain princess who was so far above him it ached. And knowing that, knowing that the fact he'd laid hands on her at all was sacrilege, knowing he should thank his lucky stars he'd ever seen her splayed out and satisfied…it made him want her more. Wanted to drag her down into the dirt with him and have her begging for a little bit more filth. Wanted to taste blood and her on his tongue all the time. Wanted to feel her lose control and take it back again and again.

She was clearing the table, and while the rest of the crew chatted quietly he watched her. The line of her arm as she moved the plates to the sink, the way her hand hesitated before plucking the knife from the table, the way she balanced those glasses so carefully.

Ballerina-tight hold on her muscles, her face, her everything.

A side effect of recovery from madness; self-control above all else.

_Her face as she came apart beneath him._

A pause, a shake.

He grinned.

_Her voice when she came, screaming his name into the night._

Glasses rattled as she moved them to the kitchen.

He smirked.

_The taste of her, the feel of her, the smell of sweat and sex on her skin._

CRASH

The rest of the crew turned to see her standing over the plate she'd dropped, shaking like a leaf, paler than usual. Simon stood immediately, moving to her side, asking his sweet little _mei mei _what was wrong.

Jayne smirked as he lifted his glass. "Seems a lil pale doc, maybe she's comin' down with somethin'."

_Running teeth over her ankle while he bucked into her._

A shiver.

Simon nodded as River glared at Jayne. "_Mei mei_, maybe we should give you a check up."

She shook her head vehemently. "No, she is fine Simon, requires no assistance."

_Biting down on a dusky nipple as she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist._

She twitched, throwing a glare at Jayne as she stalked out of the room. Her brother looked after her curiously while Mal narrowed his eyes at Jayne.

"I ain't never seen you act like ya gave a damn 'bout that girl."

Jayne shrugged.

"Gotta look out fer each other Cap'n."

"_Like being buried inside Mal's perfect porcelain princess?"_

* * *

><p>He couldn't sleep, couldn't think. He hadn't wanted anything like this in his whole life, and he was starting to get the sneaking suspicion she wanted him too. Those shy smiles she used to shoot him were gone, and in their place was her eyes glazed, staring off into space, lips parting, her tongue darting out to moisten them. White teeth worrying that plump bottom lip, her slim fingers running up her neck when she thought no one was looking, as if tracing a pattern left behind.<p>

He finally saw it clearly when Mal told them to spar in order to stay sharp; she'd kicked his legs out but refused to tackle him, and when he'd managed to lock her in a bear hug from behind she'd shivered delicately in his arm, the tiniest hint of a whimper echoing from her mouth.

He'd cornered her afterwards, hair wet and skin dewy from her shower, eyes flashing as he backed her into the shadowy area of the bathroom.

"One o' us is gonna give, girly."

She glared but didn't argue. He could read it on her face, knew she could read it on his; neither trusted the other. Neither wanted to risk being exposed or vulnerable to the other. And yet his blood hummed whenever he was around her, and her face flushed whenever he looked in her direction.

He smirked. No trust between them, no acknowledged feelings…but there was fire.

Oh yes, there was fire.

He'd left her there, struggling to keep himself from breaking first. He knew he wouldn't last; the girl was scorching his veins, leaving her brand all over him, setting him alight again and again. He needed to have her again, to possess and be possessed, to claim and be claimed.

It had been a week, and as he headed towards his bunk he knew he wouldn't last another two days, not in such close quarters, not with her nearby. He was sweating, the late night workout doing little to alleviate the tension, and as he dropped down he carelessly slammed the hatch shut behind him. He turned towards his bed.

And froze.

Kneeling in the centre of his bed, chocolate curls obscuring her face, was River Tam.

And all she was wearing was a length of rustic farm rope.

He grinned as he stripped off his shirt.

"Girly, yer in fer a rough night."

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>

**A/N: **Please don't be too mad, it had to end somewhere…and the sequel wanted some attention :)


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